


You're by the side of the road

by brilliantbrioche



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Abuse, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-31
Updated: 2016-07-31
Packaged: 2018-07-28 09:34:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7635181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brilliantbrioche/pseuds/brilliantbrioche
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You had a fight with Grantaire, you woke up in a police station, and your hands won’t stop shaking.<br/>-<br/>“Enjolras?”</p>
<p>“I'm…” You swallow and swipe a bloodied hand across your brow, “I don’t think I'm okay.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're by the side of the road

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta’d - all mistakes belong to me.  
> Title from ‘I Had a Dream About You’ by Richard Siken.
> 
> Any feedback is more than welcome.

It’s a meeting. It always starts at a meeting. 

 

The Musain is nearing closing time and, for the most part, people have started to wind down but you’re still talking. It’s an important cause and you’re still talking, until you’re interrupted. 

 

“We need to help these people. They're not going to just come us and ask for help; they’ll be too scared. The people they’re with are dangerous and most of them are in financial situations that are less than ideal. I propose we-“

 

“But you don't know. You’re not one of those people, how are we supposed to help if all the information we have on domestic abuse is coming from a rich white boy?” Grantaire was sprawled lazily across his chair, slowly drawling his words out. He grinned but there was a hardness behind his words.

 

You look away, at the others in their typical seats; Joly and Bossuet next to Grantaire, Combeferre and Courfeyrac next to you, the girls in one corner with Jehan, and the remaining guys in another. 

 

_Don’t get angry._ Your hands are shaking slightly. _Don’t get upset._

 

_This is an important cause._

 

“You cannot assume what someone has or hasn't experienced Grantaire, you of all people should know that. Besides-“

 

“Oh, so you are the person we’re fighting for?” He lent forward mockingly. “You’re the sad, poor, rich boy who can’t afford to leave the boy that’s beating you?”

 

You swallow and attempt to move on, your arms gesturing as you speak, moving toward the front of the room. “It’s beside the point who I am, we’re all capable of empathy. Just because someones suffering doesn't affect us doesn't mean we shouldn't care.”

 

“Maybe so but that doesn't stop you from being an unsuitable voice for this concern.”

 

“Grantaire.” A waning tone from Courfeyrac.

 

“What? He is the leader for everything. All I’m saying is that maybe we should find someone a little more suited to this. It is, after all, a sensitive subject and I for one wouldn't take kindly to some patronising spoof who obviously doesn't know about-“

 

You stiffen, “That’s enough” Combeferre speaks now.

 

Grantaire laughs, “What, you don't agree with me?”

 

“Please Grantaire, lets move on from this now.” You surprise yourself with how tired you sound. Then again it’s hard not to feel tired as you look across at the man who, before he has a drink or two or four, is kind and soft. Now he is jarred edges and snarling comments littered with cigarette buds and empty bottles.

 

“It’s a simple thing I’m saying though. Why are you qualified to speak on this, why always you?”

 

“Beause-“

 

He raised an eyebrow, “Are you broken, Enjolras?” 

 

_Do not get angry. Do not get upset._  

 

“Are you one of these people? You don't look like one.” He snorts before reaching for his glass, perched on the end of his table.

 

“I don't know Grantaire,” You spit out, anger hitting you hard and fast. “Are you drunk? Or is that a rhetorical question? Why are you even here? So you can mock others and be insensitive and uncaring?”

 

He’s still smiling but his eyes have lost their laughter and his jaw is flexing. You move in close. “You are not a nice person to be around like this, drunk.” He waves a hand, “I don't want you here.” 

 

You lean back again. He opens his mouth and closes it again, all you do is watch as he stands up, puts his coat on and leaves.

 

All eyes are on you as Joly and Bossuet follow him out, Jehan too after a second. No one is on your side and it’s with a sinking feeling in your stomach that you sit down and wait for the verbal affirmation that you’ve gone too far. Again.

 

Your hands are still shaking. 

 


End file.
